Two Tickets to Hell, Please
by Lady Azura
Summary: It was wrong. Wrong on so many levels and they both knew it, but they couldn’t stop. They needed to forget and this was the only way.


Summary: _It was wrong. Wrong on so many levels and they both knew it, but they couldn't stop. They needed to forget and this was the only way._

Disclaimer: Don't own _Life With Derek_. 'Nuff said.

Rating: M

Author's Note: Ever have one of those ideas that just seems to spawn out of absolutely nowhere? Yeah, well, this is one of them. Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue where this came from or _why_, but I decided I would only drive myself bonkers if I _didn't_ write it, so I did, and here it is.

**WARNING:** This fanfic may be disturbing to some readers, so take the M-rating seriously. Please.

X

**Two Tickets to Hell, Please****  
**_**By: Lady Azura**_

X

They meet in the only place they know they'll never be caught, in the dead of night, just as they always do.

As usual, she's already there by the time he arrives, clad in nothing but a loose tank top and a pair of boxers that look oddly familiar. Her hair, which has grown much longer over the years, cascades down her shoulders like a waterfall, framing her angelic (and deceiving) face. He likes it when she wears her hair down and tells her so, running his fingers through her silky locks before cupping the side of her face and caressing her soft skin. Instinctively, her eyes flutter shut and she leans into his touch, and he knows she's envisioning another but doesn't mind, because he's doing the same.

"You're beautiful." He tells her.

She doesn't reply. He knows she doesn't believe him, despite the fact that he's telling the truth. Still, he doesn't blame her - _can't_, really. He knows full well that he doesn't have the best track record when it comes to honestly. They didn't call him the 'Lord of Lies' for nothing, after all. Besides, she knows he isn't thinking of her when he says that. He's thinking of… no. Stop. He shakes his head, trying to erase all thoughts of _her_ from his mind, and focuses on the young woman standing in front of him.

"Let's just get this over with." She murmurs, moving closer.

"Eager, are we?" He teases, before his expression becomes serious. "We don't have to do this, you know."

She lets out a small, bitter laugh and smirks, making him shudder involuntarily. It's so sinister and condescending, and he doesn't know whether to be proud or scared. He's certainly taught her well, he muses.

"Don't be naïve." She says. "You and I both know we wouldn't be able to stop, even if we wanted to."

She speaks the truth and he knows it, but there's still a part of him that wants to believe otherwise - that wants to believe they _could_ stop if they really wanted to. Deep down, though, he knows the truth. They could never stop. Perhaps in the beginning, it was possible, but now… it was too late. It's been two years since… since the incident, and they were too far gone to stop. They needed one another. They _needed_ each other to forget. To forget about the past, the present, the future… but most of all, to forget about _them_.

She makes the first move, and he doesn't stop her. He just lets her do as she pleases, knowing that all attempts at resisting would just be futile. That's why he lets her kiss him - first on the mouth, then his neck, then his bare shoulders… pretty soon, she's trailing kisses down his toned chest and abdomen, and he sucks in a sharp breath as she nears the growing bulge in his boxers.

He tries to ignore the sirens going off in his head, screaming at him that it was wrong - that _they_ were wrong. He _knows_, damn it, but it's not like he can stop it - stop _her_. It's not like -

'Oh… _God_.'

He bites down on his knuckle to hold back the strangled moan in the back of his throat when she envelops his length in her warm mouth. Falling back against the wall behind him, he squeezes his eyes shut and uses his free hand to guide her, threading his fingers through her hair and encouraging her, all despite his better judgment.

'Wrong, wrong, wrong!' His mind screams, but her mouth and tongue and hands feel too damn good, so he continues to ignore his conscious.

Minutes pass and it isn't long before be feels himself nearing his peak. He can feel his orgasm building up inside of him as his grip on the back of his lover's head tightens, but he refuses to let go and instead, drags her up by the arms and backs her into one of the shelves, where he begins his assault on her neck.

Her arms encircle him as his free hand - the one that isn't already preoccupied with her breasts - dips into her shorts, drawing mewls and whimpers from her as she arches to meet his experienced fingers.

He teases her only for a little while before pulling his hand away - earning a whine from his lover - and tugging down her boxer shorts. She helps him rid himself of his own before he positions himself at her entrance, and licks his lips, searching her eyes.

"Say no and I'll stop."

"You know we can't. We need this." She reminds him, tilting her head back and looking at him through lidded eyes. "Do it. Now."

So he does. He wastes no time before burying himself deep inside of her, biting down on her shoulder to muffle his moans as he begins a slow and steady rhythm.

"Faster." She orders, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and forcing him deeper into her - eliciting a loud groan from him. "_Harder_."

He obliges, picking up his pace and thrusting faster - _harder_ - with every command, every order, every whimper, every moan. He knows he has to be rough with her to help her forget about _him_, who had always been so gentle with her, just as she would sometimes be gentle with him to help him forget about _her_.

It's a miracle that no one hears them - they aren't exactly quiet, and it isn't long before their lovemaking (or "fucking", as she would so kindly word it) starts to shake the foundations of various shelves, causing board games to teeter precariously over the edge.

"_Shit_." He hears her moan, watching as she throws her head back. "Shit, shit, shit - _FUCK_!"

He knows she's close. She always loses her ability to form coherent sentences before climaxing. Gripping her hips tightly, he delves even deeper before reaching down and tweaking the one spot that he knows will send her over the edge.

And it does.

A shrill cry - the name of her late lover - escapes her lips when she finally comes, and he has to silence her with a bruising kiss before she wakes up the entire house. Her quivering walls are enough to make him lose control as well, and he buries his face in her neck when he releases, continuing to pump in and out of her, prolonging the pleasure - the moment - until his knees give out and he collapses on the floor with her sprawled out atop of him, whispering _her_ name as he slowly comes down from his high.

"Casey…"

He feels her stiffen above him, but other than that, she doesn't do or say anything.

They lay still for what seems like eternity, panting heavily as they try to regain their strength. Then, after about five minutes, she lifts her head and stares down at him.

"We're really fucked up." She says.

"I know."

He can see the tears welling up in her eyes, but she looks away before he can comment on it.

"What… what do you think _they'd_ say if they were still here?"

"I…" he trails off.

He doesn't know what to say.

"I… don't know."

"Do you think he'd hate me?" She asks. "Do you think… would _she_ hate me?"

"No." He says. "Not you. They could never hate you."

"What about you?"

"I wouldn't put it passed them. I'm very easy to hate." He smiles grimly.

There's a brief silence before she speaks again.

"Derek?"

"Yeah, Liz?"

"Are we going to Hell for this?"

He doesn't say anything, but his silence tells _her_ everything.

"I see." She laughs bitterly before intertwining their fingers and smiling cryptically at him. "At least we'll be going together. Just like them, only different destinations."

Despite the morbid thought, he can't help but laugh at the scenario running through his head.

'Two tickets to Hell, please.'

Indeed.

X

**-Shoots herself-**

**You all thought it was going to be Lizwin or Dasey, didn't you? Bwuaha. Well… I guess, to some extent, it is. Basically, if you didn't get the underlining meaning of this fic… which I don't blame you, since I wrote this at 2 in the morning… here's the idea: **

**Derek used to be with Casey. Lizzie used to be with Edwin. For purposes of the fic, both Edwin and Casey were killed off tragically, leaving Derek and Lizzie terribly heartbroken and alone, so they find solace in one another in order to help each other forget about their former lovers.**

**How's that for dark and twisted?**

**I don't care if anyone likes this fic or not. Personally, I hated it, but my muse was nagging me so I wrote it.**

**Oh, I'd also like to point out that Derek and Lizzie are older in this fic. Derek's about 19-20 and Lizzie's 15-16... which is probably just as screwed up, but it's better than her being 12, is it not?**

**Also… this is my first smut, so the sex scene IS going to be crappy.**

**So… yeah.**

**Review, tell me your thoughts… again, I don't care if you hate it because I do to. Haha.**

_**-Lady Azura-**_


End file.
